


All Work and No Play Makes Lorenz a Dull Boy

by lesbianryuko



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Lorenz, Established Relationship, FE3H Kinkmeme Light, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Nipple Licking, Outdoor Sex, Prompt Fill, Public Nudity, Semi-Public Sex, Service Kink, Sex on a Car, Sexual Tension, Smut, Wet Clothing, [beats lorenz with a stick] INDULGE IN YOUR DESIRES GODDAMN IT, they're outside but there's no one around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:35:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24911683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianryuko/pseuds/lesbianryuko
Summary: Claude and Lorenz haven’t had sex since Lorenz got promoted. To remedy this, Claude devises a plan involving a car and a wet t-shirt.
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 86
Collections: FE3H Kinkmeme Light





	All Work and No Play Makes Lorenz a Dull Boy

**Author's Note:**

> HI this was written for the fe3h light kinkmeme for the following prompt: "Claude washes Lorenz’s car erotically, Lorenz can see his nips through his wet t-shirt, then the shirt comes off, and when Lorenz can’t take it anymore, they fuck on the hood of the car." i saw this and it was just too good for me not to fill. post-timeskip designs!

Lorenz tries to ignore the sunlight that streams through his office window, tries to block out the sound of birds chirping. It’s a beautiful Saturday in the thick of summer, and here he is, stuck at his desk while he attempts to finish up the latest in an endless string of projects.

It’s been like this ever since he got promoted about a month ago, with most of his potential free time now filled by his job. When he isn’t working, he’s too exhausted to do much of anything other than rest. Obviously he isn’t going to complain about the material benefits, and it’s nice to have more authority and control over things, but lately it’s been feeling more and more like he spends every waking moment thinking about work.

To be fair, his boyfriend’s profession isn’t much less demanding, and they knew this when they first started dating three years ago. Unfortunately, Claude’s job often requires him to stay late, while Lorenz keeps having to wake up earlier and earlier. There are some days where the only time they encounter each other is when they’re just waking up or falling asleep. Sometimes, Lorenz sets his alarm a few minutes early so that he can have a few moments to just lie in Claude’s arms, listening to the sound of his breathing, before he’s inevitably forced to tear himself away. He’ll stand up and give his still-slumbering lover a chaste goodbye kiss, sometimes on the lips, but sometimes on his cheek, or his forehead, or his eyelids, or even his nose—and that’s the only contact they’ll have for the rest of the day. Neither of them are particularly clingy, but Lorenz would be lying if he said that it isn’t taking a bit of a toll on him.

Next to him, his phone pings with a text message. Lorenz steals a glance, just to see who it is, and picks it up immediately when he sees that it’s from Claude. _Just FYI, I’m going outside to wash the Benz,_ it reads.

Lorenz’s cheeks flush. He knows he won’t be able to talk Claude out of it, but that doesn’t make it less embarrassing. He’s been so busy with work that he hasn’t even had time to stop by the car wash, so now his boyfriend has decided to do it himself. It’s completely unnecessary.

Still, the image of Claude with a sponge and a hose in the hot midsummer sun is far more appealing to him than work, especially today. After a good thirty seconds of debating with himself, selfishness wins out for once, and he forces himself to abandon his computer before guilt can change his mind.

He changes into some relatively casual summer attire, including sandals, sunglasses, and a button-up shirt with a tropical pattern. Then he heads downstairs, grabs one of his various healthy fruit drinks from the fridge, and steps outside through the front door.

Their house sits alone on top of a modest hill, with no neighbors in their immediate vicinity and a long driveway that eventually connects to a small road. It’s nice and secluded, with a lovely view of nearby fields and woods. Lorenz’s purple Mercedes S-Class is parked at the top, right in front of the garage. A sponge and some car wash soap rest on the porch, and next to the car, Claude is filling a large bucket with water from the hose. Without looking up, he says, “One minute and forty-seven seconds.”

Lorenz frowns and takes a seat in one of the patio chairs, setting his drink down next to him on the side table. “What?”

Claude glances up and smirks. “That’s how long it took for you to get down here from the time I sent that text. I knew you were desperate for an excuse to not work.”

Lorenz can’t help but feel like he’s been played, but he doesn’t think he minds. It’s warm enough outside to be pleasant, but not overwhelming, and Claude’s plain white t-shirt is delightfully form-fitting.

“Do you need any help?” Lorenz asks. “It is _my_ car, after all.”

Claude waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, no. You’ve done enough work already. Just sit back and relax.”

Once the bucket is filled nearly to the brim, Claude grabs the hose and aims it at the Benz. A bit of water sprays across his shirt, and as he circles around, thoroughly rinsing the car, he just gets wetter. He even takes a moment to aim the hose at himself, dousing his shoulders and his messy, pushed-back hair, before returning to his task.

Lorenz watches with more interest than he’d care to admit. With the addition of the water, Claude’s shirt, which was tight enough to begin with, clings to his body like static. Lorenz can see the outline of his pecs, and his nipples strain against the fabric.

Claude sets the hose down and jogs over to the side of the house to turn off the faucet, then saunters over to the porch to grab the soap and sponge. For a brief moment, he’s only a few feet away from Lorenz, and his body drips with a mixture of water and sweat that glistens on his brown skin and accentuates his lean but sturdy form. A few strands of hair fall into his face as he bends down to pick up his things, and as he stands up, he flashes Lorenz a teasing grin. He _knows_ he looks absolutely tantalizing.

Lorenz tries to tear his eyes away—to look at the flowers, the birds, anything but Claude—to no avail. As Claude soaps up the sponge and starts to scrub the car, slowly but firmly, Lorenz’s mind descends further into the gutter. He imagines those nimble hands sliding up and down his body, imagines tangling his fingers in Claude’s wet hair. He imagines brushing his lips across Claude’s hard nipples, biting and licking until he hears Claude’s soft _oh_. He imagines pleasing the man he loves in a way he hasn’t in far too long.

As if sensing his thoughts, about halfway through, Claude stops and wipes his brow. “Even with the water, it’s still hot,” he remarks, and unceremoniously removes his shirt, tossing it over to the grass in a heap before continuing to wash the car.

With much more of Claude’s body now on display, Lorenz finds himself devouring every inch of the view, his gaze roving from Claude’s shoulder blades, to his hairy chest, to the shorts hanging low on his hips. Claude has to stretch a bit to get at the roof and hood, all his muscles taut and shining in the midday sun. By this point, Lorenz has definitely started getting hard.

Claude drops the sponge into the bucket of water, now a mixture of suds and dirt, and heads over to the side of the house to turn the faucet back on. When the hose starts spurting out water, Claude grabs it and turns it toward his chest, drenching himself even more thoroughly before returning his attention to the car. Lorenz thinks he can see individual water droplets dripping off Claude’s nipples or following his happy trail down into his shorts, and it takes a lot of willpower not to stare too long at his crotch or his ass.

Only when most of the soap has been rinsed off does Claude finally turn his head toward Lorenz with a mischievous smile. As he wanders over to shut off the hose again, he glances pointedly at Lorenz’s lap, at the growing bulge in his shorts.

And he licks his lips.

Lorenz takes off his sunglasses and sets them down on the table, then stands up and walks out into the driveway. “ _Claude_.”

Claude looks like he’s trying not to smirk while he turns the faucet off. “Yes, Lorenz?” he says coyly. He practically _swaggers_ back over to the car.

Lorenz swallows. They’re only a few feet apart now. “You know what you’re doing to me.”

Claude grins and takes a few more steps forward. He’s so close, _so close_. “Do I, now?”

Lorenz can’t take it anymore. Cupping Claude’s jaw with his hand, he leans down, and their lips collide like cars on a freeway.

Claude grabs Lorenz by the hips and pulls him closer, while Lorenz loses himself in the kiss, sucking on Claude’s soft, wet bottom lip. When Claude’s tongue slides across his own, Lorenz lets out the tiniest of moans, and then he feels Claude smirk against his lips.

Lorenz wraps his arms around Claude’s shoulders, reveling in the cold water that seeps through his shirt. Claude gently pushes him backward, guiding him until he feels the front of the Benz brushing against the backs of his legs. He rests one hand on Lorenz’s shoulder, and Lorenz complies, sitting down on the warm, wet hood of the car. Only then do they break the kiss, both breathing heavily, their faces flushed.

For a moment, Lorenz is frozen in place at the sight of his boyfriend in such a state, with the sun behind him framing his face like a halo. His eyes are wide and bright and earnest. Gone is the faux arrogance, the smugness, the braggadocio, and in its place is pure fondness and sweet, tender mischief. He raises his eyebrows in a question: _What do you want?_

Lorenz responds simply by glancing down at Claude’s soaked chest. Without a word, he leans forward, his hands against Claude’s shoulders, and kisses his collarbone, slowly making his way down until he reaches Claude’s pecs. He runs his tongue over one of Claude’s erect nipples, once, twice, before biting lightly. Claude sucks in a breath.

Almost in response, Claude reaches out and places his hand on top of Lorenz’s crotch, deftly kneading his palm against the fabric of his shorts. Combined with the feeling of Claude’s nipple against his tongue, the salty taste of sweat and water, and the sound of his measured breaths, Lorenz can feel himself getting harder and harder under Claude’s touch.

Claude lets out a soft moan—Lorenz can see a bulge forming in his pants, too. “ _Lorenz_ ,” he breathes. “I want—I _want._ ”

Neither of them are quite accustomed to speaking their desires out loud, even after so long together. Claude doesn’t need to, though; Lorenz knows him well enough by now.

He detaches himself from Claude’s nipple and wipes his mouth with one hand. With a lighthearted smirk that he hopes rivals his boyfriend’s, Lorenz says, “I would be happy to oblige.”

At that, Claude kisses him again, rougher and deeper than before. Claude’s body is dripping wet and glossy, and Lorenz loves every inch of it. With their lips locked together, Claude’s fingers fumble with the buttons on Lorenz’s shirt, until, with only minor struggling, he undoes them all and opens it up, pushing the fabric down off Lorenz’s shoulders. Lorenz can feel the sun warming his bare chest and Claude’s cool hands on his skin, and he feels strangely...divine.

Claude plants more hurried, spit-heavy kisses up and down Lorenz’s body, from his neck to his pelvis. Then, finally, _finally_ , he unzips Lorenz’s shorts and pulls them down, boxers and all, in one fell swoop. Claude reaches into the pocket of his own shorts and grabs a bottle of lube, setting it down at the edge of the hood.

Lorenz laughs, short and sharp, as Claude proceeds to remove his shorts. “You had this planned from the very beginning, didn’t you?”

“Not necessarily,” Claude replies smoothly, a playful smile dancing on his lips. “I simply deduced that you probably missed this as much as I did, if not more, but you didn’t want to say anything.” He grabs the lube again and squirts some into his hand, lathering his fingers. “So I thought I’d test my theory. Plus, it’s nice outside, and the car needed to be washed anyway.”

Lorenz snorts and shakes his head. He shifts so that he’s closer to the edge of the car and spreads his legs a bit, just enough so that Claude can slip one slicked-up finger inside him. It’s not much, but after a month of longing, it’s enough to make him gasp, just a little, as he settles into the familiar feeling.

After a few moments, Claude slowly inserts a second finger and spreads them apart a bit, sliding them in and out as he gradually presses deeper. It doesn’t take long for Lorenz to get used to that, either, and by the time Claude adds a third finger, Lorenz has to stop himself from moving his hips in time with the rhythm of Claude’s hand.

“Please,” Lorenz whimpers desperately. He’s been fully hard for a while now, and he’s aching for more than foreplay.

He doesn’t need to say any more. Claude removes his fingers, momentarily leaving Lorenz hanging. It’s right then, as he watches Claude lather his cock with lube, that it dawns on Lorenz just how exposed he truly is, even though there’s no one else around to see him. He must not be great at hiding it, either, because when Claude looks back up at him, he laughs good-naturedly. “Embarrassed, I take it?”

Lorenz shrugs, feeling a slight heat rise to his cheeks. “I’ll get over it.”

Claude raises an eyebrow. “You sure? We can go inside if you—”

Lorenz shakes his head rigorously. Every second they spend talking is another second that he finds himself staring longingly at Claude’s crotch. “No, no. We’ve gotten this far.” He chuckles a bit at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. “Just…”

He doesn’t need to say any more. Claude gently grabs Lorenz’s hips with both hands and lines himself up. Lorenz spreads his legs wider, and then he feels the tip of Claude’s cock pressing against his hole. He pushes in gradually, allowing Lorenz a few seconds to get used to the feeling. They’ve done this countless times by now, but Claude is still the most attentive lover Lorenz has ever had, and he tries to be the same for Claude in return.

Claude starts out as slow and deliberate as a strip tease, rocking his hips just enough to drive Lorenz crazy. Lorenz wraps his legs around Claude’s waist and his arms around Claude’s neck, pulling him closer. Without thinking, he bucks his hips up, a silent plea for more.

Claude obliges and picks up the pace a bit. As he does, Lorenz leans in and kisses him on the lips. He savors the way Claude’s forest-green eyes briefly widen in surprise and reaches over with one hand to tangle his fingers in Claude’s wet hair. After a few seconds, they settle into a rhythm, Lorenz moving his hips in time with Claude’s as they sigh into each other’s mouths, all sweat and spit and tongues and teeth. It feels like they’ve melded to one another in the damp summer heat.

The more Lorenz moans, the faster and harder Claude thrusts, as though spurred on by the sounds of his lover’s pleasure. Lorenz breaks the kiss so that he can bury his face in Claude’s neck and let it muffle his voice, thick with arousal. He nips at the skin near Claude’s Adam’s apple and smiles to himself when it elicits a groan. “Lorenz,” Claude breathes, his lips right next to Lorenz’s ear. His grip tightens on Lorenz’s hips.

Claude pushes deeper until his balls press against Lorenz’s ass, any semblance of restraint now gone, and Lorenz gasps at the blissful sensation. “Right there, right there,” he moans, his nails digging into Claude’s back. He can feel his rock-hard cock leaking precum all over their stomachs. “So good…”

Claude’s movements are getting sloppy. Lorenz cries out with every thrust; he’s so close to release, and so desperate for it, twitching as he clings to Claude’s strong yet slender body. Claude reaches down and takes Lorenz’s cock in his hand, pumping it quickly, giving him the sweet touch he’s been craving.

Within seconds, Lorenz is done for. When Claude slams into him, he feels himself unravel, groaning as the euphoria drowns out everything else. His nerves are on fire with pleasure. His eyelids flutter closed, and with every pump of his cock, more cum spurts out. “Fuck,” he pants, uncharacteristic profanity escaping his swollen lips.

Claude follows shortly after. He clutches Lorenz’s hips so hard it’s certain to leave bruises as he spills inside him. His deep moans are music to Lorenz’s ears, and the look of ecstasy on his face is pure art, beauty in motion.

For a moment, neither of them move, taking the time to regain their energy. Claude pulls out slowly, and Lorenz can feel the cum leaking out of his hole and onto the hood of the car. Normally he’d be disgusted by something like that, but right now, he couldn’t care less. He lies down in exhaustion, his back resting against the windshield, and Claude leans against the side of the car, laughing breathlessly.

“Claude,” Lorenz says, closing his eyes to block out the sun. “Thank you. I...needed that. I missed it.”

Claude chuckles, always one to deflect. “What, my dick?”

Lorenz shakes his head. They both know that’s not what he means. “No. You. I missed you.”

Claude doesn’t respond immediately. “I mean, it’s not like we haven’t seen each other,” he says, and then Lorenz feels a soft, tender kiss on his lips. “I missed you, too.”

Lorenz tries not to smile and fails.

“Claude,” he says, “you _do_ realize we now have to wash the car—and ourselves—all over again?”

Claude laughs, the familiar mirth back in his voice. “Oh, I’m aware. I left the hose out for a reason.”

Lorenz hears him walk away, followed by the sound of the faucet turning on. A few seconds later, he feels cold water spray him in the abdomen, and he jumps up from the car with a yelp. Claude stands, still naked, with the hose aimed at the hood and a grin on his face.

Lorenz’s first instinct, of course, is to scorn this childish behavior, as he was always taught to do. But he is no longer living under his father’s yoke, and it’s been too long since he’s allowed himself to participate in such absurd frivolities.

Besides, Claude looks so happy when he gets Lorenz to open up.

So, instead of protesting, Lorenz glances down at the nearby bucket of soapy water. In a flash, he snatches it from the ground and splashes Claude’s stomach.

Claude jumps back with a cackle and sprays Lorenz again, and Lorenz responds by sloshing more water at him.

As they run around ass naked in the driveway, playing like the kids they haven’t been in so long, Lorenz feels the purest laughter bubbling up in his chest—and for once, just this once, he indulges.


End file.
